Grief
by Butterfly Dreamer767
Summary: She was gone. She wasn't coming back. A story of loss, and how it changes one of the members of the Host Club.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This is my first Ouran fic. This will be angst. It may be sad. Just warning you. And I am not using names for a reason. You will find out chapter by chapter who the main characters are not, and then I will tell you who they are. This would be a one shot, but it ran away from me and the only way to bring it back was to make it a multi-chapter fic. So, enjoy!**

**I own my ideas, but nothing else.**

Grief

He simply cannot believe it.

It was just another regular afternoon, just another typical day in which nothing happens. The Host Club had just opened their doors for business when a group of school officials had walked in. They asked anyone who wasn't part of the club to please, leave, because they had something important to say.

She was dead.

At first, he scoffed, thinking it was a joke. He could think of a lot of things she was, and dead wasn't one of them. Loud, annoying, vibrant, cheerful- dead certainly was not on that list.

But they continued, saying she was on her way to school, had been crossing the street and the driver hadn't seen her, the car was going too fast, and it was an accident- and he began to feel a cold dread settle over him. He watched as the others reacted- twisting hands, sickened looks, turning away, hiding faces, as the officials droned on. He felt a million miles away, like he was watching the scene through a microscope- not truly there, just observing.

They were telling the Host Club, the teachers explained, because some other students had remembered she hung out with them. They had hoped to find some relation, but had so far been unsuccessful. They were sorry, they said, that her friends were the recipients of such grave news. So sorry.

The fog that had invaded his mind caused him to process this information slowly. _Sorry? Where they truly sorry?_

* * *

Her funeral was a few days later.

He wasn't sure how many days. That annoying fog, which caused everything to happen so slowly, had not gone away. In fact, it persisted so badly most things were just a blur of color, noise, and motion.

He remembered sitting through the service, but could not recall what happened. The only memory he had was when the Host Club had gone up to pay their respects during the wake. She lay there, strangely silent, the opposite of what she had been. It was as if she was sleeping and would wake up at any moment, full of commands and laughter and _life._ He half-hoped this was true.

"She looks peaceful." A choked voice broke into his thoughts. He wasn't sure who had spoken.

They said she had sustained multiple injuries, had lost a great amount of blood, but he wouldn't have believed this if they hadn't told him. She did look peaceful. Her mouth wasn't stretched into a grin; her eyebrows weren't furrowed in thought. Peaceful. It was an odd look on her.

And when they lowered her casket into the ground and covered it with fresh dirt, he couldn't help but fell that it was wrong. It was surprisingly painful to watch the moist earth being tossed upon the black casket, smothering and silencing the one within.

Her father walked over to the Host Club after they finished burying her. He thanked them for being such good friends to her, for being there when she needed them. There it was again. _Friends. _He didn't know why but something about that word bothered him. Were they her friends? Sure, she spent time with them sometimes, but it wasn't very often. He suddenly felt like someone had punched him in the gut. They hardly even knew her. Her likes, her dislikes. What she did in her free time. What classes she took.

And they were her f_riends_? Didn't she have anyone else to turn to? If he was her friend, he didn't feel like a very good one. They had conversations, once or twice, but didn't friends talk more?

He would have to think about this.

* * *

It was easier just to forget.

He didn't like the uneasy feeling that accompanied thinking about her, because all his memories amounted to was a laughing, loud, analyzing figure. He knew that real friends should be able to remember more.

So he decided to forget. The school offered all students the opportunity to talk to a counselor if they needed- a nice gesture, but completely unnecessary for _him_. He didn't want to sit on a lumpy couch and talk about his actions and thoughts and feelings to some complete stranger, and then receive a carefully analyzed summary of what it all meant. He was saddened by the death of a fellow classmate. That was it.

And so summer came, and Mori and Honey graduated. Everyone decided that the Host Club should do everything that they could together because they would be losing two members. He threw himself into the activities with gusto. _Doing_ things helped him to forget the fact that a girl had died and he hadn't been a good enough friend. Whenever he felt that tickle in his head, trying to make him remember, he would laugh harder, smile bigger, and lose himself in whatever he was doing. He created a mask, one that no one would be able to see through.

It was easier than the truth.

_**Reviews would be greatly appreciated!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to Eridg17, BluMoonKittyKitty, DarkLight2589, UniqueRosePetals12, MysteriouslyMe987, and eternalsnow123 for reading/reviewing/subscribing! Glad to hear that you are enjoying the story. Hope you like this chapter!**

**Other than my own ideas, I own nothing.**

Summer flew by, as it always does. School started up again. The Host Club was as popular as ever and in increasingly high demand. They managed to find two new members so their numbers were the same. Everything seemed to be perfect.

Except it wasn't. He had been successful at maintaining his mask of indifference, but it was taking its toll. He had become silent and moody. If she was still alive, she would have labeled him as the new 'silent, stoic one'.

His friends seemed to notice that something was off. One day, Haruhi came up to him.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing." He hoped that would end this conversation.

"It's not nothing. Something has been bothering you. You never talk to us, you never say never say anything."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

Haruhi snorted. "The only people who haven't noticed are our clueless guests. In fact, they're so blinded by their love and admiration for you guys they wouldn't even notice if you all grew wings and could fly.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" He asked, sensing an opportunity to change the subject.

"No!" The tips of her ears turned slightly pink. "See, this is what I'm talking about. Even when attempting to tease me, you still speak in a monotone voice with an expression as grey as a rainy day. Something is wrong. C'mon. Tell us. We can help you.

"Nothing is wrong." He stated flatly. In truth, he didn't even know what was bothering him anymore.

"I know something is up-"

"NOTHING IS WRONG!" He snapped. Why wouldn't she leave him alone? He turned and began storming down the hallway. He was so mad he couldn't see straight. Who did she think she-

WHAM!

He went down, hard. What in the world? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Then he realized he had bumped into someone. He began to stand up, and then froze.

It was _her_. There was no other explanation. The hair, the eyes…

But the longer he stared, the more he realized that this girl wasn't her. The hair was a few shades off. Her eyes weren't the right color. She was also a little taller. As she continued to pick up her books he felt a rush of bitter disappointment.

"Watch where you're going." He snapped.

At this, the girl looked up. What he saw surprised him. Instead of accusatory anger in her eyes, he saw sadness, pity, and confusion. As she slowly straightened, he gaze became inquisitive, then searching. She did not give an accusing retort, nor point out the fact the _he _had bumped into her. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye, with her analyzing, calculating gaze.

He scowled back at her, hoping to scare her off. She did not flinch, but rather continued to study him. As he continued walking down the hall, he felt her gaze follow him, searching for secrets that he himself didn't know he had.

"You have a guest."

It wasn't the words, but rather the odd tone in Kyoya's voice that made him glance up. He had been sitting by himself in the corner, silently brooding while the rest of the Host Club entertained their customers. He was not in the mood today to even pretend to be cordial and make stupid small talk.

Kyoya looked confused. It was an odd look on his face, for Kyoya was not known to express many emotions, especially confusion. "Were you expecting a guest?" he asked.

He shrugged half-heartedly as a response. "No Kyoya. I wasn't."

Kyoya nodded. "Alright. This one seems new, she just asked to talk with you. Guess she doesn't know how the Host Club operates."

"Whatever."

"Nevertheless, she is still a customer, and you will treat her as such. Which means _be nice_." He emphasized the last two words.

"Aren't I always?" he tried to put some emotion, _any _emotion, into the words, but they came out flat and empty.

Kyoya walked away, shaking his head. A minute later, a girl came over to his table and sat down. It took him a few seconds, but he realized that he knew this girl. She was the girl he had bumped into yesterday.

"May I get you anything?" Haruhi seemed to materialize out of nowhere, ready to serve.

"Tea, please, if you have any." The girl replied. She looked at him.

"Same." He gave a curt nod.

Haruhi left and came back momentarily with the tea. The girl accepted her cup with thanks, then was silent. As the minutes dragged by, he could feel her analyzing gaze shift from him, to somewhere else in the room, and then back to him. Finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"Will you quit doing that?!" he exclaimed.

She looked straight at him. "What, being normal? Would you rather I acted like them?" she motioned to the girls fawning all over his friends. He glanced over, then looked back at her. She smiled as already knew the answer to her question.

"Thought so."

"You are not being normal." He said, exasperated.

"Fine, then let's have a conversation. What do you believe should be done regarding impoverished nations?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "It's not polite to poke fun."

"I'm not poking fun." She insisted. "From what I can tell, you don't want to talk about the weather, or how green the grass is, or what you are having for dinner. I think you want to have a real conversation with someone. In fact, you need to have one. You sit here with whatever problems you have; glaring at everyone else like it's their fault. Whatever you're torturing yourself with has eaten away at you. Your superficial world of riches and cupcakes and sparkles isn't enough to satisfy that hole."

He was a bit taken aback. "Yeah, but people don't really start off conversations with questions regarding personal beliefs or world issues."

"Fine. What do you think about the weather we're having?"

She said this without any trace of mirth. How could she be so _sincere_? The way she spoke, without interjecting any hidden meaning, or teasing tone, or flirtatious eye flutter behind the words was completely foreign to him. How did she do it?

As he searched for something to say, Kyoya's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Excuse me, but the Host Club is now closed for the evening. You are welcome to come back tomorrow if you wish."

The girl stood up. "Thank you." She nodded once at him, then Kyoya, and walked away.

"So…" Kyoya looked at him, obviously curious about the whole encounter.

"She just wanted to talk." He muttered.

"Alright. I hope you were nice." Kyoya left, recognizing he wasn't going to get any more information.

He shook his head. What was up with that girl? Since when did customers want to do anything other than receive heaps of praise and flirt all day? This girl was very strange. If she wanted to have a conversation, she had come to the wrong place.

Hopefully, she wouldn't be back.

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**_


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